


When A Man Lies

by Missesbean



Category: Olympics RPF, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Phlochte - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missesbean/pseuds/Missesbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is fed up with Michael's Lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When A Man Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CupcakeGirlA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeGirlA/gifts).



> Pairing: Ryan Lochte/ Michael Phelps, Assumed Phelps/OC  
> Author: missesbean  
> Rating: PG-13 for Language   
> Disclaimer: I own nothing; do not know any of these people, only a little headstory. No infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.   
> Author’s Note: **Inspiration from R. Kelly’s “When A Man Lies” and Alex Boyd’s “I Wish I Knew.” Also, a bit from the Beatles at the very end.   
> No copyright intended in any manner. Written for: cupcakegirla - Merry Christmas, M'Dear! Thank you to L, for beta'ing - any other mistakes are my own. Thank you to cupcake for always being so encouraging. I hope you do truly like it!

*****  
The fact that he was being the rational one was totally blowing Ryan’s mind, but, there he was, making Michael choose. He was no longer going to sit back and be the ‘other man.’ It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't at all fair to Jamie. 

Did Michael not understand that his lying to Jamie was piercing her soul? She was being broken down piece by piece, slowly dying piece by piece. It made him feel even worse when he thought about it. Michael wasn't cheating by himself, oh no, he was helping. It made it even worse that he actually knew Jamie and really even liked her. She was sweet, caring and totally enraptured by Michael, and not because he was Michael Phelps, but because he was sweet, goofy, Michael Fred with ears too big, precious lisp, and awkward limbs. 

So when Michael showed up in Florida with that smirk and look in his eye, Ryan couldn't. He thought of how Jamie’s face would light up when Michael gave her that look; he couldn't be a part of the destruction anymore. Michael was going to have to make a decision. Either he had the picture perfect relationship that the media would approve of, with Jamie, or he chose happiness with Ryan. 

Ryan hated knowing Michael wasn't happy with Jamie, it made him want to baby Michael even more, but he was trying to protect himself and Jamie now. He couldn't sit back and let Michael eat his pancakes and decorate ‘em too, or whatever the hell that phrase was. Something had to be done, and if that meant he kept his pants on, well, as much as he didn't want too, he’d keep his pants on. 

He opened the door and let Mike in, shaking his head as he shut the door behind him. Of course, he was pinned to the door by long arms, breath hot against his neck as Mike trailed a hot kiss down from his ear to his shoulder. Ryan sighed and pushed him off. **“No.”** He was stern in his words, getting out from Michael’s pin to look at him, arms crossed over his chest. 

He watched the shock settle on Mike’s face at the refusal. **“Ryaaan.”** He whined; Ryan told him no. Brown eyes watched the tan swimmer walk to the sofa and sit, making it quite obvious there was going to be no fun had anytime soon. 

Michael huffed and plopped across from Ryan in a chair, eyes tuned to Ryan. **“Spill.”** He knew that look on Ryan’s face; it was determination, irritation and a mix of hurt. 

**“Look, I’m not going to sugar coat anything, so get your big boy pants out, Phelps.”** He crossed his arms over his chest, having a hard time not crawling over to him for a kiss. 

Michael had a look of utter confusion on his face as he looked at Ryan. **“Are you sick?”**

Ryan laughed a short chuckle, shrugging. **“Yea. Sick of your shit. Sick of being the secret. Sick of you cheating on Jamie. Sick of being the one helping you break her heart. Sick of this shit. I guess yes, you could say, I’m sick, Mike.”**

Had it been a less serious situation, Ryan probably would have laughed seeing the reactions Michael went through. There was the shock, the confusion, and the mad. Huh, well, looked like he’d hit all emotions with his words. 

**“What? Ryan, that’s crazy.”** Michael was going to try and dismiss all thoughts of such issues, but Ryan wasn't about to let that happen. He was tired of this; he’d had enough of being the third person. 

**“No, Michael, it’s not crazy. It’s the truth. She’s at home, probably baking your favorite cookie, doing your laundry, feeding your dogs, and waiting for your flight to get in from whatever business trip you told her you were on this time. It’s shit. All she does is love you, and all you’re doing is hurting her. I figured she had some sort of clue you weren’t into her at first, but now, dude, that girl is. . . she’s. . .waiting for a ring that you’re probably going to give her just so you can live the life you want the media to think you have with the perfect house, perfect wife, picket fence and shit. Well, guess what, she’s in love with you, Michael. And she’s not after your fame, it’s damn obvious. And what are you doing? You come to see me for a good fuck because she can’t give you that. Well, I’m sorry, shops closed. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not hurting her any more than I have and I’m not hurting myself. So you might as well get your ass out of my house and go home and be a damn man and take care of the woman who is madly in love with you.”**

Michael sat in shock; first off, he had never heard Ryan say so much in one moment, and he’d never heard Ryan say anything quite that hurtful and in all honesty, truthful. He rubbed at his temples then his face roughly. **“You knew we couldn’t be _together_ together, Ryan.” **

**“You’re too much of a coward for a homosexual relationship, yea, I get that. Guess what, I don’t give a fuck anymore, Mike. So I like the D, whatever. Doesn’t make me any less of a person. But what we’re doing? Yea, that does and I don’t like it. And honestly, it’s made me realize I obviously only mean as much as Jamie does to you. You’re treating us both like shit, so I’m done. “** He stood up, done with the conversation. 

Michael stood as well, going towards him to provide some sort of comfort, hurt when Ryan pulled away from him. **“Ryan, don’t be like this . . . “** He didn’t know how to fix it, but he knew he didn’t want to get rid of Ryan. 

**“No, Mike, you don’t be like this. You’re going to have to make a decision. Either you get your picture perfect life, or you get me. I’m not going to be the third wheel who helps destroy that girl. Sorry.”** He looked sadly at Michael and walked away, going towards his bedroom. He shut the door and made sure it was locked. He wasn’t going to address the issue anymore. 

Michael stood in shock in Ryan’s living room, noting just how hot it was. Damn Florida heat. He laughed dryly at the situation and looked around before calling out. **“You’re going to regret this, Lochte.”** When there was no response he walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

* * * 

Jamie was, like Ryan had suggested, baking his favorite cookies and had all of his laundry done when he walked into their house. His flight from Gainesville to Baltimore had been quiet, plenty of time to think about everything Ryan had said. He had pushed it all off to Ryan being jealous, that’s all it could be, right? He had essentially forgotten everything Ryan had said until he walked into the kitchen, the smell of Jamie’s baking filling his nose, and the piles of laundry folded on the counter in the utility room. She squealed in delight upon seeing him, her limbs wrapped around him as she hugged tightly. 

He couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of guilt while she peppered his face with kisses. All she had was love, and him? Well, he had left his heart down in Florida in the hands of someone who probably hated him by now. 

Jamie sensed something was wrong, usually he would kiss her back and tell her he missed her, but, nothing. She pulled away, looking up with bright blue-green eyes, similar to someone else’s, her blonde curls all over the place. **“What’s wrong, Mikey?”** She rubbed at his cheek, concern etched over her features. 

He shook his head, and then took her hand in his. **“I think we need to talk . . . “** Mike watched her features fall instantly. He didn’t like seeing her upset, and he knew she was going to be upset when he was done talking to her. 

Michael led her to the sofa by her hand, squeezing her fingers. He sat beside her, taking her hand in both of his. **“I need to be completely honest with you, Jamie.”** He rubbed her hand, letting her have a moment before he continued. **“I just, I haven’t been treating you right, and I. . .Jamie.” He rubbed her cheek, noting the tear that was settled on her cheek. “I haven’t been on business trips...”** he frowned, disgusted with himself. 

Jamie sniffled, knowing where this was going. She was a lot more observant than he gave her credit for. The woman had noticed his tickets in from Gainesville almost always, how his clothes wouldn’t be the same from what he packed, she just hoped each trip home would be the last time she would have to deal with it. She was far too in love with Michael to even bring it up. 

**“I know when you’ve been in Florida, Mikey. I know that’s where you go.”** She rubbed his hand gently, blinking hard to keep her tears away. It was entirely too obvious to Jamie; Michael would disappear at his ‘meetings’ and return much happier and actually unstressed. Which, was completely different when he really would have a meeting, so it wasn’t like she could believe him. Jamie just didn't want to let him go, mainly because she was hopelessly in love with him. 

Michael rubbed her cheek gently, **“Oh. . . Is it that obvious?”** He was nervous as to what she was thinking at that moment. Jamie nodded, then wiped at her tears.

**“Do you love him?”** Her voice was timid and weak, eyes averted to her lap as she asked. He would probably be mad she figured that out too. 

The man sighed, hands rubbed angrily at his face. How had she figured all of this out? Why had she let him hurt her? He couldn’t even figure this out right now, except that he was confused and just wanted to snuggle with Herman and figure out what was going on in his life at the moment. 

**“How’d you know, Jay?”** Brown eyes searched hers, insides turning. 

She shrugged, not wanting to disclose everything. **“You talk about him a lot . . . light up like a Christmas tree when he texts you . . . anytime anything exciting happens, you want to call him. . . tell him. . .he’s the first person you want to tell your news too.”**

Everything she said was true; it was ridiculous how true she was. Michael apologized profusely, hugging her into his side while she sobbed into his shirt, realizing why he was having this conversation. He felt like the world’s worst person; today he had gotten a lecture from Ryan and broke Jamie’s heart. Just great. 

**“I’m sorry.”** His words were soft, full of honesty and apologies. He rubbed her back softly. **“What do I do, Jamie?”**

Weakly, she looked up at him and shook her head, **“Be happy. Go love him.”** How could she deny Ryan Michael’s love? She couldn’t. She wasn’t that selfish. 

He sighed, rubbing her back. **“For you, Jamie, what do I do for you?”** He wanted to help her somehow. 

**“Just let me cry and hold me right now.”** She whimpered, hiding her face in his shirt. Well, it was the least he could do, so he did as she asked, rubbing her back sweetly. 

 

* * * 

It was strange not talking to Ryan for a two week period. There were so many times when Mike would pick up the phone to call Ryan, tell him about the newest adventure, but then he’d stop. He’d called Ryan as soon as Jamie had gotten the last of her things and gone, but Ryan wouldn’t take his calls. He wouldn’t answer texts, emails, anything. 

He realized that he was going to have to show up on his doorstep for anything to happen. So, he got on a plane and headed straight for Gainesville. He knew Ryan would be home, knowing his schedule like the back of his hand. When his plane landed, he’d have a short drive and would be there just when Ryan was getting home. Perfect. The rest of the flight he planned out how exactly he was going to start the conversation. 

A few hours later, he found himself standing on Ryan’s porch, Mountain Dew and pizza box in hand. He rang the doorbell and waited, hoping Ryan would let him in once he saw him. Shortly, the door swung open and Ryan stood looking less than enthused. He moved to shut the door, but Michael stuck an arm out, stopping him. **“Wait, Ryan. . . hear me out.”**

Ryan sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and stepped out of the way. He let Michael in, shutting the door behind him and pointed to the kitchen, wordlessly. 

Michael walked to the kitchen, setting the food and drink down on the counter for him. Ryan was leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, game face set over his features. Michael knew that look, it was one generally reserved for those he wasn’t fond of. 

**“Ryan. . . “** he sighed, moving towards him. **“Come here,”** he opened up his arms, hating seeing that look on Ryan’s face aimed at him. The other man shook his head though, putting more distance between them. **“No! I told you, I’m not doing this game.”** He backed away, discomfort flashing across his face. 

**“I know, Ryan.”** Michael spoke softly; eyes trained n Ryan’s behavior. He stood still, not wanting to scare him off. 

**“Then why are you here? You never take me seriously, and I’m being serious about this one, Michael. I’m not going to be the other man. Sorry, just not going to play that game-”** He was getting angry, brow furrowing. 

**“I love you.”** Three words, quiet, soft, sincere and almost desperate. Michael looked at him with intent brown eyes, boring into Ryan’s.   
   
 **“What?”** He squinted at Michael, not sure of what to think at that moment. 

**“I. Love. You.”** It was easier to say that time, maybe it would be even easier the next. He had a whole speech planned out for this moment, but it wasn’t going to work. Ryan was not reacting like he had assumed he would. 

**“Okay, if you’re just saying that to get in my pants, then you can fuck off.”** He scoffed, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe that Michael was going that far with this whole gamut. It wasn’t funny. 

Michael looked almost hurt at Ryan’s words, wincing as he heard them. **“Dammit, Ryan. I love you. It’s you. It’s always been you. With your. . . blue green brown whatever the fuck color they are eyes, your crazy curls, those freckles that dot your skin like a fucking treasure map, and that stupid grin you get when you have something to say. It’s you, Ryan. I love you.”**

Ryan stood in shock, suddenly unaware of what to say. Michael loved him. Okay, well, he hadn’t seen that one coming. He suddenly felt fragile, almost breakable, like he was going to cry at any moment and that wasn’t at all acceptable. He bit his tongue, looking down at his feet. **“You uhm-“** he coughed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. **“You love me?”** It sounded like his voice went up three octaves more than he knew he had at the question. 

Michael nodded, walked towards him and tugged him in for a tight hug. Ryan melted into him, arms tossed around his neck as he held on. He sniffed, burying his face in the dip between Michael’s chin and chest. **"You don’t know how baldy I wanted to hear that. . .”** The taller man smiled, tucking his chin on Ryan’s head. **“I’m sorry it took so long.”** He kissed the top of his head gently, holding him tightly. 

 

* * * 

Big brown eyes looked over at the sleeping form beside him, a smile tugging at his features. He couldn’t believe he was here. He was happy, there was no pressure and he had absolutely zero care as to what anyone else had to say. It felt good, being himself for once and truly able to just relax and let love rule his life. Sure, it had been a hard road to get to where he was, a lot of tears on Jamie’s end, a lot of yelling on his and Ryan’s, but they were there. Happy. In love. Everything felt right. 

Ryan’s eyes opened slowly, a lazy smile curling over his face as he looked at Michael. **“Good morning,”** he smiled sweetly, like every morning. He reached out and rubbed Michael’s cheek sweetly, **“What do you have in store for us, Mister Lochte?”** He grinned over at his husband, yes, husband, taking in that perfectly flushed face. 

It was in that moment, Michael realized, everything was okay. He didn’t need to have a perfect image, that didn’t matter. He had love, and all you need is love.


End file.
